


Space

by crychan



Series: Lance Buried Alive AU [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:06:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crychan/pseuds/crychan
Summary: Life returns to normal for Keith and Lance: Keith has begun returning to work, Lance is learning that being alone maybe isn't the worst thing ever. Things are great!Until... they aren't.





	1. Shopping

Keith begrudgingly entered the supermarket, grumbling under his breath, his hands stabbed into his pockets. He stomped his way over to the mini grocery carts and then towards the aisles, glancing between the shelves and the hand-written shopping note Lance had set him up with.

It was all Lance's fault he was here in the first place. Instead of doing Rock Paper Scissors to decide who had to get groceries (It was almost always Lance since he always picked rock), Lance had decided on a new challenge.

"Okay, it's called Fing Fong Fooey, so you just pick a number with your hand and then count it up, starting with you being one. Whoever the count ends on, loses." Lance seemed excited, and Keith was prepared to rise victorious.

 

"This game is stupid."

"Well, a loss is a loss! Here, I'll write the wittle baby loooser a shopping list." Lance had shifted into a baby voice as he scribbled onto the back of a receipt

Keith hated Fing Fong Fooey.

He threw in the discount bread and almost all of the mini cupcake tins and moved to the dairy section. He glanced back at the list. _Dozen eggs_. As he was placing the cartons in, his phone went off.

"Hello?"

"How's the superstore treating ya?"

"I have bread and the mini cupcakes. I'm grabbing a dozen egg thingies."

"... Like twelve cartons?"

"That's what you wrote."

"I meant like, one carton with a dozen eggs."

"... That makes so much more sense." Keith began to hastily put back all the cartons.

He could hear Lance cackling.

"I'm hanging up now."

"Wait! Wait! I also want popcorn."

"We have popcorn!"

"No we don't! I'm literally looking in all the cupboards! We got nada!"

"Lance, you put the last popcorn bag in the microwave, like, a week ago in case you immediately wanted some."

"I did?"

"Yes!" Keith continued on, finishing the list's bare necessities of cheap crates of Kraft Dinner and Mr. Noodles and went into the shortest line for cashiers.

 

"Lance."

"Wha'? Thish popcorn i' shoooo good!"  
"Fing Fong Fooey sucks. Next time let's just both go."

"Bohf of ush?"

"Yeah, this is so boring alone, how do you keep losing if this is your motivation?"

"Well, Keif-"

"Oh my God, just chew." Keith snapped. He heard obnoxiously loud crunching, like Lance put the phone insanely close to his mouth, then a loud gulp.

"Well, Keith, maybe I just enjoy the domestic bliss of grocery shopping."

"Uh huh. Then is the reason you didn't go this time just because you wanted to get a head start on the game I bought yesterday?"

"..."

"...Oh my God you wanted to get--"

"Can'thearyouthegame'stooloudsorrybye!"

The call ended.

That son of a bitch.


	2. Troy Baker is a Dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the ridiculous long wait! :( i got hella sidetracked, it's my final year in high school and i have to submit my applications in a month-ish.
> 
> been so lazy, lolol i had a long weekend and still did my homework sunday morning lol 
> 
> OKAY HERES THE NEW SHORT CHAPTER I PULLEDO UT OF MY ASSSSS

Keith practically sprinted home. Well, sprinted as fast as one can sprint carrying a comedically large amount of groceries.

 

Keith had waited in line for one hour that day for the game. It may not have seemed too extreme for just a video game, but Keith was a man of little patience. That game was Day One Edition, practically an heirloom in Keith's eyes from it's ridiculous price. It was only fair that Keith got to play it first instead of that prick who inverts his controls.

 

When he arrived home, he slowed down. He dropped everything off on the front porch and peeked into the window. Lance was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, fiddling on his phone, the game on the home menu. Keith slowly opened the the screen door, crouched down with a conniving grin. Lance was still engrossed in his crappy flip phone. Keith crept closer... and closer... and-

_Beepbeepbeep!_

Keith flinched.

Lance flinched.

Lance whipped his head around in time to see Keith lunge at him, fingers jabbing into Lance's sides. Lance squawked and flew backwards and grabbed at Keith's arms. "WHY KEITH," He screeched. "WHY MUST YOU TAZE ME?"

"YOU PLAYED THE GAME I BOUGHT WITHOUT ME!" Keith stood up and snatched the controller. "Please tell me you didn't get any achievements."

"I don't think so..."

Keith grumbled under his breath, "I don't think so..." in a mocking tone as he checked the achievement progress. "Zero percent. You are sooo lucky."

"I did, however... find a secret ending..."

"ALREADY?! I WAS GONE LIKE, AN HOUR!"

"OKAY WELL IT WAS PRETTY BORING TO GET ALL I HAD TO DO WAS STA-"

"NOPE, NO, NOT HEARING THIS, STOP SPOILING IT." Keith blocked his ears with his controller still in hand and sat down next to Lance. "I'm going to play my game, and you will cheer from the sidelines and look up walkthroughs when I get lost." Keith paused for a moment. "And bring in the groceries I left outside."

"Oh, come on! That's like, the worst part of shopping!" Lance grumbled and dragged his feet towards the door.

"Whatever, just bring them inside and I'll put them away later, you big baby..."

 

 

"Okay, wait, so this guy--"

"Pagan Min."

"Okay, whatever, so he just like, raided and shot up a bus full of people."

"Yup."

"For Ajay."

"Yyyyeah."

"And then he set it on fire."

"Oh yeah."

"... This game rocks."

"Oh my God you have such weird standards for video games."

 

 

"Wait, is he voiced by Troy Baker?"

"What? Nahhh."

"He totally is, listen."

"Well, go on, take the bloody bag off his head!" The game audio blared out of the TV speakers as they both listened intently.

"YOOOOO THAT'S TROY BAKER!"

"Why is this guy in everything."

"And why is he always a fucking dad."

"He is not a literal dad in everything."

"Nah, but like, a sexy dad, like... It's just-- okay, he voices some rad guys. He did Booker Dewitt, Joel from Last of Us, Mitchell from Advanced Warfare!"

"Okay, but he voices the Joker in Arkham: Origins, and he's not a 'dad'."

"Ew, you're right."

 

  
Eventually Keith grew frustrated, mostly because "these controls are so confusing" and Lance wouldn't stop arguing that Troy Baker should voice their GPS.

 

 

While putting the groceries away, Keith managed to check the notification he had received when he had sneaked up on Lance.

_Shithead: sorry about starting the game without u i was just as hyped as u were to get this lol_  
_also sorry about tricking u into going into the store which was by pure skill not chance alone  
this phone sux btw it takes 4ever to type so im only 1337speakin from now on. i cant even send emojis :(_

Which apparently is all you need to let Lance play some of his game for a bit.

 


	3. He's Like a Small, Deaf, Sleeping Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ded tired

It's 2:18 am and Keith can't sleep.

Usually it's Lance who never wants to sleep, always shaking Keith awake during their late night Netflix viewings to talk about some pointless random fact in the show.

_"But Hahn was Callie's soulmate! She was perfect! Callie was just inexperienced about who she was with Hahn, and Hahn was okay, kind of a bitch at the end of her showtime, with that "kind of a lesbian" comment, but like, with enough time, Hahn could have grown! Arizona is so selfish with Africa and not wanting kids and stuff, jeez, and then cheating on Callie?! Like jeez!"_

But now it's 2:20 am and Keith is wide awake, sitting upright in their bed, Lance's head resting on his shoulder, drooling and snoring with the TV playing some half-muted Dreamworks movie.

Keith isn't paying attention to the movie, he's more occupied with how to move himself and Lance into a more comfy position without waking him. He knows Lance is a heavy sleeper when it came to noise, not even a roar of thunder during a storm could wake him. He was not, however, a heavy sleeper when it came to jostling. Sure, he could fall asleep on a moving train or car no problem, as long _as_ it was already _moving_. However if Keith turned over in his sleep, Lance's would immediately sense a disturbance in the force and rise from his slumber to smack Keith with his pillow, huff, and proceed to scooch up and lay directly on top of Keith, who's rhythmic heartbeat and breath sounds could lull the grumpy, lanky man back to sleep.

it's 2:34 am and Keith has yet to think of a move that would not move Lance. His best hope to avoid a pillow beating would be to drop Lance and flee, but that never ends well for long, Lance always got revenge. Keith could always tell when Lance got devious, he got a gleam in his eye, and he glanced between whatever he had sabotaged and Keith, and Keith knowingly sabotaged himself every time to hear Lance hoot and holler at Keith getting his hair dyed pink (In which Shiro had told him he "looked good!") or have the radio blasted with Beyoncé when Keith turned on the car. It was annoying, infuriating even, but he did it every time so Lance could cackle and laugh so hard he'd snort like a pig. 

But now it's 2:49 am and Keith is slowly lowering himself and Lance onto the large pillow that acts more as a backrest for them when they sit up.

_Gently.... Easy does it... Don't... Wake... Up..._

  
Much to Keith's surprise, Lance doesn't seem to stir. Keith sighs in relief, and flops down, ready to sleep.

"Huh...? Whut time'izzit..." Lance woke up. "Two-fifty?" Lance blinked. He frowned. Rubbed his eyes.

 

Then pounced on Keith with a pillow. "IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, MAN! BEAUTY SLEEP'S IMPORTANT!" Lance seemingly forgot that he had fell asleep _during their movie_ and Keith just ripped the pillow from Lance's hands, smacked in square in the face with it and flopped back down, back facing Lance.

"Nyeh, nyeh, ' _beauty sleep's important_!' _Look at me, I'm Lance and I fall asleep on people during movies_." Keith raised his head to make the most mocking tone he could.

"Oh yeah? Well... _I'm Keith and I wake people who fall asleep during movies at 3 in the morning!_ "

Keith grumbled and simply replied, "Good night."

" _Good night!_ " Lance huffed and laid down.

 

 

 

"By the way, Arizona was perfect for Callie, Hahn never had a chance."

"Alright, listen here, you fuck!"


	4. First Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith returns to work and ends up staying out way later than planned.
> 
> Lance manages to hold it together until the sun sets. When Keith doesn't return home after work ends, he gets worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i always want my chapters to have at least 1k, but this had made me so lazy.

"You're sure you don't mind? I'm gonna be gone like, all day, like nine-to-five."

"I can do it. If I start getting lonely or scared, I'll just message you!"

"Okay. Alright." Keith grabbed his bag. "I'm gonna go to work, catch the very few amount of bad guys in this town, come home and eat your probably cold pizza and watch some bad show."

"Hey! The pizza will be warm and the show will be great."

"Mhm." He pecked Lance on the cheek. "Alright, I'll see you tonight."

"I love you!"

"I love you too. See you tonight."

Lance had spent his day keeping busy, he had vacuumed the house, done the dishes, put the laundry that had been building up in the living room away, and put all the dirty laundry in their kitchen, next to the washer. Very productive.

He had also texted Keith. He also Facebooked Keith, Snapchatted Keith, Face-Timed Keith and called him for his entire lunch break.

It was Keith's first day returning to work. So it was also Lance's first day alone in the house since the time that shall not be mentioned. He had played music on his phone while moving about the house, pretending to know the words to some abstract Soundcloud station. Now it was 5PM, Keith would be on his way home. He was tempted to call Keith once again, but decided against it since Keith would be distracted while driving.

Lance tried to redirect his focus from the silence of the house at dusk to a new task.  
He tried watching the show he had recorded, but it couldn't seem to captivate him. He tried to remake his bed for the fourth time, but it never seemed to look creaseless. He had turned on every light in the house once he saw the sun set. It was nearing six and Keith still wasn't home. Lance texted him, asking if he was staying late, to which he scarily got no response.

Lance vacuumed the floors again. Keith was fine, he was just absorbed in his work, or Shiro had convinced him to go out with him somewhere.

Ah, Shiro, he could call him.

 

"Hi, Lance!"

"Hey, Shiro, is Keith with you?"

"Ah, yeah, we're at the bar down the road from the precinct!"

"Bar? How's he gonna get home if he's drunk?"

"Nah, he's not drinking, he's just-- Oh, never mind, he's drinking. He's drinking a lot. But don't worry! I haven't had anything yet-- except, like, seven shots."

"So how are any of you getting home?!"

"We'll take a cab, doooon't worry!"

"Who even drinks at six?"

"The people at the bar that turns on its mechanical bull at seven! Look, I know you probably wanted Keith to come home right away, but he neeeeeds this! He-- okay, look I'm gonna put him on the phone, so he's gonna talk to you, so I'm gonna go, great hearing from you, buddy!"

Lance heard shuffling on the other end and some hushed arguing.

"No-- Shiro, wasn't the whole reason we came here was to--" Keith was cut off as the phone, from what Lance could hear, was shoved into Keith's face. "Hiiii, Lance. I know I was supposed to come home, like, two hours ago, but Shiro told me there was a mechanical bull in this bar! Can you believe it? We've been in this town for like, a billion years! Didn't even know that! Didn't even know! Did you know?"

"Wowww, that's crazyyy."

"Right? See, I knew you'd understand. Okay, well, I'm just gonna be here for a while, so don't worry-- Oh my gosh, they're turning on the thing, Shiro, the-the thing. Lance the thing. I gotta-- they're turning it on, holy crap. Okay, Lance I'll see you toniiiight. Great talk!"

"Hey, wait--."

"It's on, it's on, Lance. I'm gonna be home soon, okay? Okay."

"Are you pushing me off the phone?"

"N-No. Let's talk for a long time."

"Whatever. Enjoy your dumb robot bull. I bet you'll fly off of it in six seconds."

"Bye, Lance!"

"Bye. I love--"

Keith hung up.

 

The pizza went cold.

 


	5. Don't Go To Sleep Angry, Or Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith returns home, plastered, and Lance couldn't sleep a wink. They're both tired and not thinking straight.
> 
> This one jumps POVs, with every long break it switches from Lance's then to Keith's, then Lance, Keith, Lance, then Narrator/Both POV.
> 
> also its only been an hour since i wrote this and i forget everything i typed in this rip me
> 
> *doesnt remember what i wrote*  
> *hates it anyways*

Lance felt frustration build in him. Keith had blatantly hung up on him. _He's just drunk._ He tried to rationalize. _He's drunk and passionate about a mechanical bull._

Lance went to bed, with all the lights, except the one in his bedroom still on, the only sound was the TV playing in the bedroom and his stomach gurgling with hunger. He wasn't hungry. Or rather, he didn't want to eat.

 

  
Keith returned home late. Shockingly late. He vaguely remembered that Shiro had told him to not go to work tomorrow, or, he guessed today. If Keith could read the time, he would find that he returned home at 1:38 in the morning.

"Why're all the lights on...?" He kicked off his shoes. Strolled over to the kitchen. "Ha. Cold pizza." He put it into the now pre-heating oven, pizza box and all, to warm up.  
Keith trekked to the bedroom, shedding clothes as he went. He stood in the doorway.

 

  
Lance had his back to him. The TV had turned itself off, but his phone was now playing music softly. "Laaaaance." Keith draped himself over him, he could feel Lance go rigid under him. "I'm warmin' up the pizza."

"It's two in the morning... Go to bed." Lance shrugged him off, pressing himself further into the mattress.

"Nah, can't be that late. 'Was gonna watch reruns with you..." Keith crawled over to his side of the bed and flopped down. He wiggled around a bit, much to Lance's apparent annoyance.

"Stop wiggling, just go to sleep!" Lance huffed, drawing the blankets closer to himself.

"Are you mad at me?" Lance stilled. Keith didn't say anything more.

He didn't respond. _I am mad. He was a big jerk and he left me alone all day. He stayed out late, got drunk, he didn't even say he loved me._

Lance's eyes grew wet with frustration. _Fuck, don't cry, do not cry._

The tears fell.  
_Fuck. What an asshole. Just leaving me alone all day. It was supposed to be eight hours at the most, he didn't even come home for dinner._

Lance tried to take a silent breath, but his chest shuddered and rattled and immediately gave him away.

 

  
Keith squirmed back over to Lance and peered over his shoulder, causing Lance to curl in on himself. "Hey, what's wrong?" Lance let out a choked sob. Keith seemed to sober up immediately. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not." Lance's tone was bordering on outraged.

"What's got you so upset?"

"Nothing."

"Lance, talk to me, I thought you were okay with me going back to work."

"I'm okay with it! I am!" He turned over and faced him, face slick with tears, red all over. "B-But you didn't talk to me all day! I didn't get to see you! We talked for, like, five minutes at lunch. You pushed me off the phone and didn't tell me where you were!" _And you didn’t say you loved me_. He left that unsaid. Keith stared at him, stunned. Slowly, his expression grew colder.

"You're crying over me going out with my friend? Really? You've kept me house bound for practically three months! I haven't worked in forever, eventually I had to go back!" Keith's face began to contort with rage.

"The longest you let me be alone was to go grocery shopping, and even then, you called me, like, ten minutes after I'm out the door, you don't leave me alone for a second. And if you‘re the one going out, you call me once you get into the store! I go to bed earlier so you don't sleep alone! And some nights I just needed to be by myself, so I would just go to the garage or something while you slept. And nothing bad ever happened. You get so fucking upset when you're alone, it's ridiculous. Like that one night you woke up crying thinking I had left you. You really think I'd fucking do that? Really? Forgive me if I wanted one night alone, one moment of my life that isn't chaperoned by Warden Lance Fucking Sanchez!"

 

  
Lance was struck dumb. _Had Keith really made so many sacrifices for me? He had taken an unpaid leave off of his job for me, he always picked up his phone during those crucial times, he was right, he was always by my side. I am being selfish. Fuck._  "I--" He started, but Keith cut him off.

"You know, what? I really don't want to hear another excuse, that you're lonely, or you just miss me. I really just wanted one night! Just one night, alone, with one friend. To just have fucking fun. But that's too much to fucking ask for, isn't it? You wouldn’t have wanted to go anyway! If you aren’t sitting here all day, you’re at the grocery store! We don’t go out anymore! Your life is two fucking blocks big.”

 _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._ The tears started to fall again. He had asked too much of Keith, he wasn't just some play toy for only Lance, he had been just selfish.

 

  
Then the fire alarm went off. It was loud and jarred them from their broods to focus on a pizza box on fire in their oven.

 

Lance, after a moment, burst from the bed, grabbed the extinguisher, which had been a joke gift from Pidge about their cooking skill, swung open the oven door and sprayed. Keith eventually joined him, turning off the oven and using his shirt to pull out the box, stuffing it in the trash. After a quiet moment, Lance dropped the extinguisher, dragged himself to the couch, and curled up on it. "Lance, go to the bedroom." 

"No," came his quiet reply. "I don’t want to sleep beside you right now."

"All of the lights are still on, Lance." Keith waited for a retort, but none came. He sighed, turned his back, and closed the bedroom door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, it's both their faults. But deflect deflect deflect
> 
>  
> 
> Happy Hollandaise everyone. I wanted to write more Lucas stuff, but I've hit a writer's block. But I'm on Xmas break, I should update these more.
> 
> The most important gift, is a comment on something because hOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU LIKE IT AHHHHHHHHHHHH FOR ALL I KNOW IVE BEEN GIVING YOU GARBAGE


	6. Lance's First Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey it may or may not have been a month or two since my last chapter oops ;)
> 
> so i just failed my final project in 11 physics and botched my final presentation in english by being forced to present three days early, so i'm in a small depression and lack motivation to try anymore.
> 
> anyway voltron season two hype ayyy
> 
> also i adjusted the ending.

Lance didn't sleep. The door to the bedroom was closed. The smell of smoke was still prominent in the air. He laid on the couch, facing inward, wide awake. One could only do that for so long. After a few minutes, he got up. The lights in the house were still on.

He wanted to apologize. He wanted to crawl over to Keith and grovel for forgiveness, if not for Keith, then for the selfish reason of not wanting to be alone.

It was quiet, usually that wouldn't bother Lance, but the time of Lance being normal and "usual" were long gone. It was agitating, usually he'd fill the silence with music, or his own voice. Neither seemed appropriate, or right.

He shot up off the couch, went over to the sink. Lance grabbed a rag and soap. He wet it, then got to work cleaning the burnt cardboard remains in the oven. _Up, down, up, down, up, down. Left, right, left, right, left, right._ The patterns of the grooves in the oven racks felt predictable and oddly comforting. Lance continued until the oven was more-or-less burnt remains free.

The silence was back.

Lance grabbed the broken flat mop, which now became their broom, and began to sweep the house. _Swerve right, swerve left, swerve right, swerve left, swerve right, swerve left, swerve right, swerve left into the corner._ Rinse and repeat. It still smelled, so Lance opened the windows.

He vacuumed. As quietly as one could, only using it to suck up the messes he had put in corners. As he ravelled the cord back up, he froze. A nagging though pressed his mind.

_Did I miss a spot?_

Yes, under the coffee table. He pushed it out of the way, unravelled the cord, and quickly vacuumed up the hidden crumbs and dust. Once again, as he wound the cord back up, he felt it, that concerning, nagging thought.

_Did I miss a spot?_

Where? He thought he had gotten it all, yet he still wondered.

_Did I?_

He swept again. Vacuumed again. It didn't go away. 

He took a deep breath, sat down on the couch. His arms ached. He stretched and looked at the time.

_3:59 am_

He had cleaned for about two hours. He put the broom away. Grabbed the vacuum. Cleaned up all of his messes.

He recoiled up the vacuum. Put it away. Sat back down on the couch.

_4:02 am_

He felt a cold breeze pass through.

The windows. He rose up again from the couch, and made to close all of them. When he glanced at his hands after closing them, he saw a large build up of dust on his fingers.

So he grabbed a rag and multi purpose cleaner. Wet the rag. Began the delicate work of wiping down all surfaces in the kitchen, even the top of the fridge, which led to wiping the inside of the fridge, which led to throwing out many of their old foods in the fridge and organizing it, which led to organizing all the other cupboards.

Eventually the dusting of every other room was forgotten, Lance stayed in the kitchen, wiping down the counter, which led to him having to move the large stacks of papers on it, which led to Lance organizing the papers, recycling most of them.

The kitchen was spotless. Or, it looked spotless. It didn't feel spotless.

_Did I miss a spot?_

So Lance grabbed a new rag. He'd redo it all again. It still didn't feel _right_. He was missing _something_.

Before Lance could realize it, he felt the warm glow of the sunrise while redusting once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm scrapping this, but i will put up my last chapter tonight bc sleep is for the weak tbh i'm just gonna watch voltron again and study


	7. Halfway.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ah fuck it ;)

The next morning, Keith couldn't tell that Lance had even moved.

He felt guilty. _I was a huge asshole last night. I could have at least told him something, anything._

He wanted to talk about it. Lance probably didn't. Keith tried to imagine himself in Lance's shoes. Lance had told him something that had upset him, and Keith had scolded and berated him. Harshly. If he were Lance, he would have felt embarrassment pile onto his guilt. Keith felt embarrassed that he would make Lance ashamed about his feelings.

Keith made his way into the kitchen, turning off lights as he went, it being daytime and all. His head ached, he felt clammy and nauseous, and he had had the worst sleep of his life. He toyed with the idea of going back to bed, or puking his guts up, but chose in favor of making a hearty breakfast.

A hearty breakfast of toasted, chocolate chip pop-tarts. He quietly placed a plate of them on the coffee table and sat on the floor, leaning against it. And then waited. He was tempted to wake Lance up with a shake of his shoulder, but decided against it when he realized he had no clue what to say. He stayed put.

  
Lance woke.

The sun was high in the sky, it was probably nearing noon. He softly groaned and turned around. He saw Keith, with his head down and back to him. He sat up. Keith must have heard him because his head shot up like a rocket. Was Lance supposed to say something? Was Keith supposed to say something? Is there such a thing as argument etiquette?

"I'm sorry." Was the first thing Keith blurted out.

"W-Well, I'm sorry too..." Lance managed to squeak out after moment.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, I was a huge asshole to you, you shouldn't be ashamed of how you feel about something, and I shouldn't have yelled."

"Well you were drunk, I didn't even think you'd remember yelling."

"I wasn't that drunk."

"You put a pizza box in the oven and almost burned down our kitchen."

 

Keith didn't respond. He glanced back to the oven and saw that it seemed to sparkle like it was brand-spanking-new. "At least it doesn't look that bad..."

"That's because last night I practically scrubbed it until my fingers were rubbed raw." Lance didn't meet his eyes anymore, instead was intent on looking at the breakfast Keith had prepared hours ago. "And you think it just 'doesn't look that bad'." He muttered.

"I'm... really sorry, Lance." He leaned forward a bit, hoping for Lance to meet his gaze.

"Water under the bridge." Lance grabbed the plate and walked past Keith. "I want to reheat these, since neither of us probably ate dinner last night."

"You didn't eat have dinner?"

"Nope."

Keith, as dense as he could be about others sometimes, knew Lance was giving him the cold shoulder. Maybe that argument was a catalyst for some distance between them. As much as Keith enjoyed his own company, he knew Lance probably didn't want to be alone, even after their late night arguing. So Keith followed him to the kitchen. He tried to brighten Lance's mood and maybe get Lance to talk about last night.

"Uh... Wow, this place looks spotless."

"Hope so. I cleaned it."

"O-oh. When did you do that?"

"I just, tided up a bit yesterday, while you were gone, and then... a bit more last night." So practically the entire time Keith had left him alone.

Keith wanted to abort this uncomfortable conversation and back flip into a volcano, but instead he simply tried to change the subject.

"Lance--" he started, but he was quickly interrupted.

"I don't really want to keep talking about whatever happened last night."

"Well, we have to. I have to make it up to you, somehow... and we have to work on how I'll transition back into my job. Maybe I'll start part time." It seemed like a great idea to Keith, he got some alone time at his job and still spent most of the day with Lance. Win-win.

"Keith, I don't think we can afford you not working full time anymore. Since one of us is always out of a job, having you make half the money will be a tight squeeze." Keith found himself thinking _Oh, how considerate, Lance, only thinking of my money now instead of three months ago._ He mentally berated himself for thinking like that. Lance had needed him. He would have done it again.

"Just maybe a few weeks, or months. We can cover the ends that don't meet with our savings." Lance went quiet.

"Is that how you paid for these last three months?"

"Yes." He said it without hesitation. No more hiding.

"Then do we even have much left?" Keith only had about eight grand saved, he were going to use it for a new car.

"We have enough, Lance, the money doesn't matter." Lance had set the plate down and was tightly gripping the counter with his back to Keith. "Lance, I want to do this right. I don't want to rush into this like we had tried to do. We'll go at the pace you’re comfortable with."

"My pace is slow. My pace is making you go on an unpaid leave of absence for three months and spend your savings.” 

"Lance, you needed that, you had good reason for wanting that." He took a step closer. "You're getting better all the time. You can still function when I'm not in the room, that is progress. Lance, things will get better, they always do." Lance took a deep breath.

"You promise we'll do this right?"

"I promise."

He turned around.

"... Okay."

He stepped forward.

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back flips into the void
> 
> summersaults into sauron
> 
> lets get down the business
> 
> to defeat
> 
> my crippling writers anxiety  
>  
> 
> its one am and im gonna write season two keith angst ;)


End file.
